Tuesday, September 16 - The Spoon's Perspective

                                                    The Spoon

                        Everyday I lay in this drawer awaiting the horror that is being used to eat by these nasty humans. Some days they do not pick me up depending on how recently I have been washed. Oh no the burning light is back! This means they are opening the drawer. Today I am the first spoon in the pile. I silently scream as the grubby hands of the small child pick me up and dump me into the cold, sticky yogurt. It smells rather bad and I can't seen a thing except the cloud of pink. However, this is far better than peanut butter. The child takes for ever to eat and it keeps using me as a drumstick on the table. This is my life. Pure torture everyday. This is not even the worst part of the process. The worst is what comes next. The vicious storm of water I will be thrown into. The child throws me into the sink and I make a loud sound as I hit the bottom.  All day I sit in silence in the smelly sink until it in finally night. Hands are coming towards me. These are the hands I hate the most. The hands of the child's mother. She picks me up, runs scolding hot water over me and dumps me into the small basket in the dishwater with my other friends. We all sit grimly in silence as a the door to the dreadful machine closes. I hear buttons being pushed then it starts; oh the horror. I still am just as scared every time as the angry waves of water and burning soap engulf me. I hear my friends screaming. The spatula has the most raw horrible scream. She is new. This is her first time being washed. The water burns for what seems like eternity. The screams of me and my friends turn into whimpers. Eventually, it stops. We are all left sitting cold, wet and violated. The woman pulls us all out one by one, dries us off and throws us back in the dark drawer that we call home. I sigh and wait for the next day. I wait for the vicious cycle to start up again as it always does.